


Grey

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JC is feeling down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey

**Author's Note:**

> just a little bit of comfort, loosely inspired by an email conversation with aly.

"Just leave me the hell alone, all right?"

"The fuck is wrong with C?" Chris leaned his head out of his bunk, blinking at Justin. The door at the rear of the bus slammed, flimsy in its frame, and Justin scowled back at Chris.

"JC's in some kind of mood, I don't freakin' know," Justin muttered, stomping off to the kitchen. Chris shook his head and swung out of his bunk, landing solidly on the floor. He didn't even think about the fact that he automatically and unconsciously compensated for the vehicle's constant motion; it was just a side effect of the many years of constant bus travel.

Chirs knocked on the door, which gave under the slight pressure. He wasn't surprised; JC'd slammed it so hard that the latch hadn't caught.

"Go away, J," JC said.

"What is it, JC?"

JC drew in a sigh, heavy with the sound of tears. "Not, just, not in the mood, Chris, okay? I just want to be alone for a while."

Chris slipped into the lounge anyway, shutting the door behind him. JC sat on the couch, his head in his hands, and when he looked up, his eyes were dark and full of moisture. It made Chris's heart want to break, these mood swings of JC's. He'd be so happy, so excited about something, and then he'd swing, his mood crashing drastically, sometimes within the course of a day. Lynn Harless used to call them "roller-coaster moods", and would hug JC a lot. Chris had taken up the job when Lynn stopped traveling with them all the time.

"Chris," JC said warningly.

"I know what you said," Chris said, and sat down on the divan next to JC. "Come here."

"Chris, please."

Chris ignored JC, pulling the long, lanky body close to him instead, tugging JC's limp arms around his waist, urging JC's shaggy head down to his shoulder. "What was it?" Chris asked softly into JC's hair, stroking his back.

"Nothing," JC murmured. His arms pressed closer, clinging to Chris despite the protests. "I don't even know. Just woke up in a grey mood, I guess, everything's just. I'm so tired, Chris."

"It'll be over soon." Chris let his palm travel over JC's soft hair, limp and flyaway, tightly curled without any styling. "We don't have that much longer, then we'll go home and you can sleep as much as you want."

"Until the next time." JC's voice was disconsolate, melancholy. "And even when we're not on the road, there's always something, some event, or promotion, or photo shoot, and then we start writing and recording and it starts all over again. I'm just tired. I want it to be over."

"I know." Chris pressed a kiss to the top of JC's head. "I know, C."

They rode like that in silence for a little while. JC sniffed and rubbed his eyes, then his nose, with one hand. "Sorry," he said.

"It's okay." Truth be told, Chris kind of liked these quiet times between them. He didn't have to be 'on' or entertaining or amusing; he could just sit there and be, and that was enough for JC, when JC's emotions just got to be too overwhelming, when the world crowded in on him and wouldn't let him go, couldn't let him relax. He wasn't Chris Kirkpatrick of 'N Sync or CEO of Fumanskeeto now, he was just Chris, just a guy with one of his best friends, and JC was just JC, not 'N Sync's Heartthrob, the Dreamy Songwriter.

He bent his head and pressed his lips to JC's. JC's eyes widened, then fluttered closed, and he leaned into the kiss for a moment before pulling his head back.

"Chris, I don't know."

"I just want you to be in a better mood," Chris murmured.

"You want to get laid," but JC was smiling now.

Chris shrugged. "That too, but it'll make you feel better, won't it?"

"I guess." JC's eyes were focused on the floor, the smile not quite reaching them. Chris brushed soft fingertips over JC's forehead, pressed a kiss there, then pushed him back to the divan. JC's mouth opened to Chris's kisses, unresisting, allowing Chris to press his tongue into the damp warmth, his hand moving restlessly over JC's shoulder, chest, arms.

"Shh, shh, relax," Chris whispered, licking JC's neck. JC wasn't exactly tense as such, but his eyes were closed as if he were being tortured.

 _Fuck_. "C," Chris said softly, and climbed back up along the divan, laying himself down next to JC. "You just want to lay here?"

"Yeah," JC replied. Chris put himself along JC's body, lining up hip to hip, thigh to thigh, wrapping an arm around JC's waist. It seemed ludicrous, Chris being shorter than JC and not really as capable of providing body security the way someone bigger, like Joey, might. But JC didn't seem to notice.

Chris's hand stroked JC's stomach in slow, absent circles, and after a while, JC slowly began to relax into Chris's warmth. His breathing evened out, his head pillowed on Chris's arm; Chris stayed awake, though, just watching him. Watching over him.

"He okay?" Justin whispered from the doorway.

"He will be," Chris replied, his tones equally hushed. "Go away."

Justin went, leaving Chris with his armful of sleeping JC. Chris closed his eyes, savoring the way JC felt against him.

Outside, the sun began to break from behind the clouded, overcast sky.


End file.
